


Blip On a Radar

by Insane_but_smart



Series: The MCYT Percy Jackson AU [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bleeding, Hurt No Comfort, I swear it isn't what you think it is but there is in fact blood, It's just sad in general tbh, it's literally just tommy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart
Summary: A drop of water in a churning sea.A speck of sand amongst a vast beach.A single person in a wide, ever-changing universe.Who wouldn't feel worthless against those odds?How could someone like him be truly great?After all, he was just a blip on a radar, there one moment and gone the next.
Series: The MCYT Percy Jackson AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915525
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	Blip On a Radar

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Misadventures of TommyInnit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904899) by [Clichewho_69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clichewho_69/pseuds/Clichewho_69), [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 
  * Inspired by [Wits, Fire, and Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270081) by [Clichewho_69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clichewho_69/pseuds/Clichewho_69), [Cygnvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygnvs/pseuds/Cygnvs), [Trash_Kinggg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Kinggg/pseuds/Trash_Kinggg). 



> The second fic is a precursor to the first, so go read that!! It's great and I love it so much. Anyways, read that for context.
> 
> This is a change of pace from what I normally write (This is my first work for this fandom and I am fear.jpg) but I did it anyways.  
> I... hope you 'enjoy' it? This is the only thing I've gotten motivation to write in the past week, so I did, hehe.
> 
> (Part 1 of Think Of The Children)

He was fine.

And that was what he kept telling himself, for the longer he said it, the more he believed it, and the more everyone else believed it.

This was fine.

Tommy was loud- he seeked the attention that he never got before now, the attention that he had never gotten the chance to have, and he had paid for it.

He was well aware of the fact that he had no friends. (Well, he kind-of had Tubbo, but Tubbo didn’t count. Everyone was friends with them, anyways.)

He was well aware of the fact that to most of the camp, he was obnoxious. And  _ sure,  _ he may pick enough fights to make people think he may actually be a son of Ares, but that was the only real way to vent his frustration. Apart from screaming at people. Which... he also did.

He just wanted to be  _ recognized,  _ dammit, he wanted to be someone people would look at and say, ‘Oh,  _ that’s _ Tommyinnit! Isn’t he just so cool?’ or… uh… ‘Tommyinnit is the man and the best.’ (Wait, no, that was stupid. Eh, whatever, it’s not like anyone would really go and say it to him anyways. Well… except Dream, that one time, but that was a dare! It didn’t count.)

Well, maybe not  _ exactly _ in those words, but... the sentiment would be nice, he supposed.

He liked to think that he owned his title as the ‘obnoxious child’. 

At least people noticed.

At least people cared.

People cared.

People… cared?

Did they care?

Did he matter to them?

Or was he just a blip on the radar to them?

A passing sound, a fleeting moment in the ever-flowing passage of time, a drop of water in their ever-growing sea?

He was so small.

So weak.

So puny.

Pathetic.

It was a wonder how someone like him had managed to survive, had managed to get through sixteen years of his miserable existence.

He gripped his arms tightly, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath in and keeping it there for a moment or two, heart racing.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to cry  _ so badly…! _

~~ He  _ needed _ to cry. ~~

But he didn't.

He wasn’t- wasn’t a crybaby…! 

And anyways, someone could see, he was exposed out here anyways...

He could go into the woods.

But someone could see.

Everything was alive in this world.

You just had to open your eyes.

He hated it.

The way his eyes were open.

The way the Mist couldn’t shield him from the harsh and cold truth.

He- he wanted to be  _ alone _ for once, he realized.

Because this?

He didn’t  _ want _ to be known for this.

He didn’t want to be known as a child, a pathetic, crying, wimpy  _ kid. _ He wasn’t that…! He was- he was special, he just had to believe he was special and maybe it would be-

He choked back a sob, leaning further into the wall his back was to.

He…

He squeezed his eyes shut, unshed tears wetting his eyelashes, nails digging into the flesh of his arms as he picked at a few scabs with one hand. A few drew blood, and yet, he didn’t care.

They were just scratches.

Barely important.

...strangely, he found himself in a weird relationship with them, relating with the sentiment he shared with them. He could understand that, he thought.

Neglect.

He just… wanted attention.

To be _noticed_.

And wasn’t it just his  _ dumb, idiotic luck _ that he was the child of Hermes, barely relevant, barely noticed amongst the chaos of Cabin 11, alongside so many others?

Drowned out by white noise?

So... 

He had tried- had rose above the noise.

He  _ became _ the noise.

He  _ was _ noticed.

But… not for anything remotely good. (Drowning Technoblade? The man, the myth, the legend- it- he hadn't meant to, it had just- and he didn't- he still felt bad about that. Horrible.)

The nice ones would call him ‘a little rowdy’.

The mean ones…

~~_ Obnoxious, annoying, pesky, brat,  _ _ childish _ _ ,  _ _ idiotic _ _ , good-for-nothing  _ **_scum_ ** _ - _ ~~

He guessed it was fair.

He guessed.

He just- he just wanted to be-

He wanted to be known as more than just a  _ stupid kid! _

Was that so hard?!

Was that not something so incredibly stupid, so inconcievable, that he couldn’t just have i-

He scowled, sliding harshly down the rough surface behind him to sit, his shirt tearing in multiple places with s-

_ He wasn’t wearing a shirt. _

It was too hot out (really, 100 degrees Fahrenheit?! He could go on two seperate rants on how  _ stupid _ the  _ stupid  _ Farenheit system was and also how  _ stupid _ hot it was out today. Not a cloud in sight. It sucked.  _ And _ on top of that they still had class.), so he had ditched it back at the cabin.

His back was covered in scratches, he realized.

He blanched.

_ Shit shit shit shit- _

Oh gods oh damn oh shit oh f-

He pressed a hand against his back, blood slowly seeping from some of the scratches.

He relaxed a little. They weren’t  _ too _ deep. He could walk it off.

Where was the cabin? He had to hide these somehow.

He could change there, it was the middle of the day and most everyone was in ‘class’, so nobody would notice-

Wait, why was he panicking over a few scratches!?

“C- come on, man.” he muttered to himself. F--k.

What would Technoblade do…?

No.

He couldn’t keep- keep on- 

He had to change his mindset, this mentality, if he wanted to actually  _ do something  _ with his life, if he wanted to become more than one single, meaningless,  _ worthless, good-for-nothing blip on a f--king radar that nobody even gave two f--ks about, that nobody even noticed until it was gone and yet it had no f--king importance, no relevance at all- _

He pressed his hand against the cuts, breathing in and out slowly, trying to stop the bleeding, the blood as it slowly oozed out of the cuts, wetting his palms with crimson.

It was fine.

He stood up slowly, his legs shaking, trembling, weak, he was weak, he was-

It was… fine.

He made his way to Cabin 11 nonchalantly, and strangely passively, ignoring the passing glances shot at him as he made his way past them.

They were mere blips on his radar, like he was on theirs.

He pulled open the door and grabbed a disgustingly orange shirt (Seriously, why did they even choose that colour?! It was so  _ bright, _ it was like they wanted their eyes to be burned right out of their sockets or something. It was stupid. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid- _ ) that may or may not have been his- he didn’t care, for it was in fact in the right size anyways- and tugged it over his exposed top.

He didn’t even care if the blood would seep through the thin, light, blindingly orange fabric.

He got into enough ‘fights’ that he could just... explain it away.

Nobody had to know the truth.

Nobody had to know about the way he felt.

Nobody  _ needed _ to know.

Nobody cared enough anyways.

He was just another blip amongst so many others on the radar of the universe.

~~ It wasn’t fine, and it never had been. ~~

~~ But it wasn’t like he would actually admit that. ~~

**Author's Note:**

> rest in pepperonis tommy, scratched to death by the walls of cabin 3 (i mean seriously though it's gotta be pretty rough O.O those things are made of like,, coral n' shit)


End file.
